


Going to Take Time

by Goggles_McGee



Series: Thick as Thieves [1]
Category: Persona 5
Genre: Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Everyone else is briefly mentioned, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Torture, M/M, Physical Abuse, fluff at the end, i hate how the game glosses over injuries, only slight spoilers though, spoilers for after sae's palace, sweet child of mine needs to recover and heal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-17
Updated: 2017-12-17
Packaged: 2019-02-16 06:32:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,022
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13048449
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Goggles_McGee/pseuds/Goggles_McGee
Summary: He wanted someone to notice that hidden beneath all the makeup, layered clothes, and practice-perfect smiles was bruises, bandaged cuts, and broken spirits waiting to heal. But he didn’t have time to wait. Time never waited for him and he knew he simply couldn’t rely on time or even hope for time to take pity on him. So, he would just cake on the makeup a shade too dark for his pale visible skin, he would layer on clothes to hide the signs of the carefully wrapped bandages that hugged his body, and he would wear the mask of the leader until his face was no longer a mirror reflecting how tired and broken he was. He would do it all so his friends didn’t worry more than they already had. He would do it so they didn’t feel an ounce of guiltiness and so that they wouldn’t feel compelled to watch the security footage he knew existed. He would do it all for them and he would do it all again if he had to, he would willingly chip away like cheap paint if he could shield them from the ugliness some adults carried in their hearts, if even just a little.





	Going to Take Time

**Author's Note:**

> Basically i hated how the game completely glossed over the torture Akira went through and wrote this. But for real though, i hated how they kind of brushed off his injuries so here you guys go, you get my pettiness.

Time was never his friend, at times it seemed like they had an understanding and that Time was willing to give him its compassion, but then it would show its true colors when something important happened to him.

No, time, well and truly was never his friend.

Though he knew this, Akira still had this childish hope that Time would accept him, accept his friendship and his need for it, but it never did. It proved this time and time again. It proved it when his grandma, the only person in his life who gave a shit about him, died seemingly out of the blue. A heart attack, the doctor said. It was bound to happen, his uncle said. It proved it when he always came home at the wrong times, when his father was drunk, and he somehow did something to set off his father’s rage. It proved it when he arrived home from school early because he wasn’t feeling well and caught his mother cheating on his father with his homeroom teacher. And it continued to prove it when he happened upon a woman getting harassed and he decided to help.

Akira couldn’t find it in himself to be mad at Time though, despite all of that, but he had lost his faith in Time. Or so he told himself even though he still held onto that hope from before.

You would think after so many times of Time letting him down and breaking his trust, he would have learned to let go of that hope, or at least not rely on it as much as he did, but he was a fool in every way.

Though he was grateful to Time, but only because if he didn’t stumble upon that woman in need of help, then he never would have found his friends, and he never would have become a Phantom Thief, but that was the only thing he was grateful of from Time.

At the moment though, Akira hoped again, hoped that time would take pity on him. He needed time to heal, after what he had been through he needed time. He willingly went through with the torture, he thought he had been prepared for anything and everything the men interrogating him could have thrown at him, he had been wrong. He hadn’t been prepared for the drugs, the exhaustion of being kept awake by pain and the pull of unconsciousness for the same reason, he tricked himself into thinking he could handle being “roughed up” a little to try and get him to talk, he had been wrong, so wrong. Every punch, every kick, every needle that pricked his skin, every time the metal from the handcuffs dug into his wrists, every time nails dug too deep into his skin, every object used to hurt him, every threat, every glob of spit, every knife that drew red across his skin, everything that had been thrown at him, he hadn’t been prepared for. He thought he had been, but he hadn’t. Every inch of his skin had a mark of some kind when they had finished with him, that just meant he had to hide every inch from his friends and hope that he would get that time to heal.

When he still felt the pain, he would remind himself he willingly went through all that torture. A small voice would yell back, _‘But you didn’t willingly sign up for that level of it. You didn’t willingly sign up to be traumatized.’_

And that’s what he was, traumatized. He didn’t want to admit it at first but when he looked at himself in the full-length mirror he had up in his room, he had to. He had to admit it with every wince he made as he piled on clothes to hide his bandages, he had to admit it with every brush and pat from the sponge that coated his bruises and cuts with makeup, he had to admit it with every smile he practiced in the mirror until it didn’t look so forced. He practiced walking till he no longer limped so obviously, and he made Tae promise not to let anyone besides Sojiro know the true extent of his injuries. Sae also promised him not to let them know. With that knowledge Akira snuck down into Le Blanc and he put on his best performance yet.

All the world’s a stage and all the men and women merely actors or however the saying goes. Akira is an amazing actor, he prides himself on it. So, he felt proud when none of his friends noticed when he let himself wince or when his smile strained just the slightest bit. Though he was proud, he couldn’t help but feel a bit disappointed and desperate. Disappointed because no one noticed just how broken he truly was, and desperate because he wanted someone to know just how broken he was, he wanted someone to tell him it was okay, that he was going to be okay. He just wanted someone to figure out that he was not as confident as he let on, that he was not as okay as he was acting, that he needed help, that he needed time. He knew Sojiro knew to an extent, but even the older man seemed fooled by Akira’s smile and reassurances. He wanted someone to notice that hidden beneath all the makeup, layered clothes, and practice-perfect smiles was bruises, bandaged cuts, and broken spirits waiting to heal. But he didn’t have time to wait. Time never waited for him and he knew he simply couldn’t rely on time or even hope for time to take pity on him. So, he would just cake on the makeup a shade too dark for his pale visible skin, he would layer on clothes to hide the signs of the carefully wrapped bandages that hugged his body, and he would wear the mask of the leader until his face was no longer a mirror reflecting how tired and broken he was. He would do it all so his friends didn’t worry more than they already had. He would do it so they didn’t feel an ounce of guiltiness and so that they wouldn’t feel compelled to watch the security footage he knew existed. He would do it all for them and he would do it all again if he had to, he would willingly chip away like cheap paint if he could shield them from the ugliness some adults carried in their hearts, if even just a little.

They saw too much of that ugliness as it was, they didn’t need to see more. They didn’t need to see his body, soul, and mind tainted by that ugliness as well.

He didn’t want them to.  

He was glad to see all his friends again, but he was gladder when they left. He hated himself for feeling that way, but it was true, he could let the façade slip at least a little now that they had left after filling in Sae and Sojiro on everything that had happened and what the Phantom Thieves planned to do. He could feel Arsene comfort him, but he could also feel his anger and fury over what happened to his user, he knew it was no use telling him he was fine and that it would be fine because Arsene would know he was lying. Though it wouldn’t be a complete lie, Akira knew he would be okay once everything was said and done and they found out who Akechi was working for, and when he finally got time to start to heal. Yes, the experience was awful, god was it awful, but it In no way broke him to the point where it would stop him from doing what was right and helping out where his help was needed. If anything, it just fueled his fire. He was broken but not beyond repair.

He repeated this to himself when he begun to take off the spare uniform he wore and everything underneath like the extra shirts and the shorts. He took his time because he needed to, after acting like nothing was wrong for so long, it quickly caught up to him just how much wrong it actually was. Reality was a son-of-a-bitch. He had to slowly peel off every article of clothing and even then, he took many pauses to let the throbs of pain subside enough for him to resume. He did this until he stood in nothing but his underwear and the now loose bandages.

The full-length mirror that rested against the wall was too much a temptation to resist and Akira found himself looking over every inch of his body now that he could see if once more. He took stock of anything and everything he noticed, even the moles and light freckles. With a sigh he turned to go grab his pajamas when a creak of the floor boards near the stairs caught his attention. He had hoped Morgana was going to stay with Futaba for the night, in fact that was what the cat had declared when all was said and done for the night, so the creak caught his attention right away. Instead of finding Morgana creeping up on him, he found Yusuke. An aloof, beautiful, and shocked Yusuke whose eyes soaked in everything they could.

Akira had half a mind to cover himself up with the sweats in his hands, but his body wouldn’t move, couldn’t move. It was as though the two were in a standstill, both trying to come up with a move while trying to guess what the others would be. Finally, Yusuke took several long strides so that he was face to face with his leader, he opened and closed his mouth several times before he simply swallowed whatever he was trying to say and gingerly started to remove the bandages that hung from Akira’s frame. And Akira let him, maybe he should have tried to cover himself, maybe he should have said something, and maybe he should have just done something other than stand there but he couldn’t bring himself to do any of those options. He did that too often, ran over choices, options, decisions, call them what you will but he tended to overthink everything. Even something as small as what to say in a conversation with a friend. Anxiety was his ball and chain.

For once his mind was blank, instead of choosing something to do, he decided to do nothing and simply left himself in Yusuke’s hands. And honestly? It worked wonders. He didn’t have to be the leader, he didn’t have to be the supportive friend, he didn’t have to be the boy with the criminal record, he didn’t have to rise up to any expectations because one look into Yusuke’s furious and worried eyes let Akira know he wasn’t expected to do anything. He didn’t say anything as Yusuke slowly unraveled his body, or when Yusuke gently ran his fingers over every wound that was made visible by his unraveling.

“You should have said something.” Yusuke mumbled as he dropped the bandages onto the floor and continued to gently caress Akira.

“Would it have made a difference?”

“If you’re asking if it would have made a difference to the wounds, the answer is no. If you’re asking if it would have made a difference to let us know about the extent to which those men hurt you, my answer is yes.”

“I didn’t want to worry you guys.”

“Surely you must know that you not telling us, worries us more.”

“Sorry…”

“Please don’t apologize. Please. It’s not your fault.”

Akira laughs at that, and it is as bitter as he feels because, it was his fault. He chose to go through with the plan. He chose to be captured and interrogated for what felt like days, which was really only hours. Only.

“You laugh, why?”

“Because it is my fault.”

“Akira…”

“It is. I chose to go through with the plan. This was all for the plan.”

“It’s not your fault.” Yusuke states more firmly as he continues to stare at the wounds that cover Akira. “It’s not.”

Akira says nothing and just lets Yusuke circle him, lets him see for himself the damage Akira needs that time to heal for.

“Oracle is going to hack into the footage. She probably already has.” Yusuke announces as he makes Akira sit on his bed. It was a warning, Akira recognized, a way to let him know to be prepared for his friends anger and concern that was bound to follow. Again, Akira says nothing but points to his schoolbag next to the stairs. Yusuke says nothing in return as he goes to retrieve it, and still nothing as he finds a salve and bandages in it. The way he smears the salve onto Akira’s skin reminds him of the way the artist paints. Every move is methodical while seeming random, even the way he wraps the bandages around Akira’s body is done much the same way. After he’s done with that Akira pulls out the makeup wipes Tae had given them and just holds them out to Yusuke. He takes them and understanding clouds his eyes before he, as gently as he could, removed any and all makeup from Akira’s face, neck, and hands.

Akira wants to feel ashamed, wants to feel shy being this exposed in front of his crush, but he can’t find it in himself. He lets Yusuke smear the salve on his face and neck, he expects Yusuke to smear it over his knuckles, what he doesn’t expect is for Yusuke to kiss the bruises and scabs on his knuckles. The shyness he wanted to feel hits him full force, as does the full body blush that takes over his body.

“So, you do blush.” Yusuke mused aloud, he was amused which only darkened Akira’s blush. “I was beginning to think that nothing could get a rise out of you.”

‘ _Boy would I like to get a rise out of you.’_ Akira thinks but his tongue suddenly feels too big for his mouth and what he lets out is a chocked-out sound.

“It’s beautiful.” Yusuke mutters as he placed kisses on Akira’s wrists, his lips getting sticky with the salve that coated the wounds around his wrists. Yusuke continued this treatment for all of Akira’s wounds, even the ones bandaged up, until he came to the split lip. He paused, and it was during this pause that Akira finally got himself to breathe again before that breath was stolen away by Yusuke’s lips. It vaguely registered in his mind that he let out a noise when it happened, his eyes fluttered shut and he leaned into the gentle press of lips. What needed to be done as well as the time he knew he didn’t have to heal blurred into just fleeting thoughts as the kiss carried on, Akira’s lips moved languidly with Yusuke’s.

When they pulled apart it took Akira several moments to open his eyes and focus on the boy in front of him. His swollen lips pursed in preparation of a question before Yusuke pecked his lips, taking the question away without a blink of his eye.

“It needed to be said. I…when it was announced on TV that you were confirmed dead…despite knowing it was all a rouse, my heart clenched so painfully I feared it would stop beating. Just the thought of never seeing you again scared me to my very core. Even though I knew I would see you again. And in that moment, I knew I had to let my feelings known. Though I suspect you knew of them beforehand.”

“I wished…suspected…but I didn’t know for sure.” Was Akira’s reply to the confession.

“As did I. Which is why I decided to let you know. Akira, I love you. I am in love with you and I will make sure you never go through something like this again. I vow it.”

“I…I love you too but if I need to do something like this again, I hope you know I would do it, in a heartbeat if it was for you and the rest of the Phantom Thieves.”

Yusuke sighed as sat beside Akira before coaxing him into his arms, though it didn’t take a lot of coaxing to begin with.

“I know. And I wish you wouldn’t but if and when you do, I’ll be here to pick up the pieces.”

Akira let out a sob, when had he started crying? “You can’t always fix what’s broken Yusuke. It can never go back to how it was.”

“I’ll never try to put the pieces back to where they seem to go. Don’t you know? Some of the most beautiful pieces of art are made from broken pieces, they never work the same way they did before but the hold a new purpose in which to present to the world. You’re my mosaic.”

And Akira only cries and sobs more as he feels Yusuke card a hand through his hair and rub circles into his back. Yusuke doesn’t try to shush him, doesn’t try to get him to stop crying, he simply assures Akira that’ll it’ll be okay and to let it all out, and Akira does just that. He doesn’t remember the last time he cried, and he sheds tears for all the times he’s held them in as well. He cried himself to sleep in Yusuke’s arms, and when he woke in the early hours of the morning from a nightmare of voices yelling at him and shoe prints being bruised into his skin, he’s being cradled still. Akira knows it’ll take him a long time to recover, he knows, but before he had no hope of actually recovering, but with Yusuke with him and everyone else, he had new hope and he knew, he had people willing to give him some of their time, the time he needs, to heal.


End file.
